The Doctor Is In

He was the CEO of a large U.S. arms manufacturer- one of the Pentagon's largest suppliers.

As such, he expected people to wait on him- and to wait for him.

He was to be approached as if he were a god- which he was- as far as the U.S. government was concerned.

But with the Doctor, it was different.

He had to beg to visit the Doctor's office.

The Doctor supplied his company with the most dazzling innovations- innovations that seemed to be right out of Buck Rogers in The 25th Century.

Occasionally the Doctor's assistant would call- to let him know that the Doctor would be supplying him with another one of his inventions.

And the CEO would rush to the Doctor's office like a young high school graduate paying a visit to his first bordello.

On other occasions, the CEO would hear rumours about one of the Doctor's inventions. Inventions it seemed that the Doctor was not willing to share yet with the world.

And the CEO would go- non-existent hat in hand (since CEOs never wore hats anymore) down to the Doctor's office and beg on his hands and knees (like a client in the presence of a leather skirted dominatrix) to see the Doctor.

Today the Doctor would see him even though he didn't have an appointment (oh, if only the health care system were this easy!).

"Yes?" the Doctor sat in the darkened corner of an already dark room smoking a pipe.

"Doctor," the CEO began, "umm... we've heard rumours that you have invented a new type of laser beam which has the ability to shrink things in size and then restore them to their original size later."

"Really?" the Doctor blew smoke rings with his pipe, "and do you believe these rumours?".

"Well, if they're true, Doctor," the CEO answered, "we'd wish you'd sell this new technology to us. The U.S. Air Force's drone attack planes we could shrink in size, go into difficult spots of Afghanistan and Pakistan, bomb the Hell out of the Taliban, return to base and then go back to the original size."

"Bomb the Hell out of the Taliban," the Doctor nodded and smoked thoughtfully on his pipe, "you know Dante had the Prophet Mohammed confined to the fires of Hell in his work The Inferno which I suppose explains why you don't hear too many public readings of Dante these days."

"I have an M.B.A. from Harvard, Doctor, so I know nothing whatsoever about the Classics," the CEO sounded exasperated, "do you have this technology or not?".

"Your appointment is now over," the Doctor gazed through a small telescope through a small crack in the office curtain at the time on the sundial in the garden outside his office.

"Oh, bugger all," the CEO swore.

"I believe there's a gay health spa and sauna room over on the next block should you wish to resort to that," the Doctor answered.

The CEO left harrumphing.

The Doctor went over to a chest of drawers and opened the bottom left drawer where a small skeleton of a live spirit possessed T-Rex was growling.

"Now," said the Doctor, "if we were to restore you to your original size this evening, which place should we get you to attack?".

To be continued.